Commander of Reapers
by ChaosHatsune
Summary: This story deals with Garrus and Shepard dealing with the aftermath of the Reaper invasion. When Garrus hears that they never found Shepard's body, he has a hunch that there was more to disappearance than everybody thinks. After all, with a badass like Shepard, how can she possibly be gone?


When she woke up, she found herself in a room shrouded in darkness. There was no light whatsoever, but an endless void of black. It felt terribly stuffy and the woman felt that there was barely any room for movement. She tried to move a single appendage, but finds that her limbs would not respond to her commands. Groaning, but finding that she could not make any audible sounds, nor find the familiar movements of her lips, she decided that must have either been dreaming or was dead. So far, she was hoping that it was the former.

"Shepard," a loud booming voice echoed throughout the recesses of her mind, making her forget about the strange anomaly of being unable to move or speak.

"You are awake," it said, the voice strangely familiar, but she couldn't quite place her finger on who it was. Her mind felt far too foggy and slow. The woman having trouble processing everything that was going on around her.

"Who are you?" she asks, her voice producing no sound but she knows that she can be heard. She wonders on what the answer would be.

"Harbinger," it responds.

"Harbinger?" she says, more of a statement than a question. "Where the hell am I?" she asks, as sudden realization strikes her and she remembers. "Why the hell are you keeping me hostage? Dammit! Let me out!"

"You are in an isolated space of Reaper Space. You are not kept hostage."

"...Reaper Space?" she questions, more confused than ever.

"Shepard," Harbinger starts, "do you remember what happened?"

She says nothing for the longest time, forcing herself to remember, but for some reason the memories don't flow. There are nothing but disjointed images that fleet across her mind, moving far too quickly for her to understand. She attempts to grasp them, but finds that it is nearly impossible, the memories merely slip from her and disappear. Lost in the echoes of her mind.

"You are no longer alive. You are dead," Harbinger says, filling in the gaps for her. "You are also no longer human."

"I'm...I'm not a what now?" Shepard asks, having trouble processing what she was hearing. The woman tried hard to comprehend what was being said to her, but she found it far too difficult to understand. It didn't help that the Reaper gave her nothing but a cryptic answer.

"You are us, Shepard." it replied again, its answer unusually vague.

"Are you saying I'm a Reaper now?" she questions, the woman looked at it with an indignant look, seeking a straightforward answer.

"No," Harbinger replied back, before deciding to continue with an explanation, "you are us, and in return, we are you."

"How the...how the hell does that work?" Shepard asked it, perplexed beyond belief.

It took several, long moments before it spoke again. "When you chose to control us, your consciousness was uploaded to the crucible, it was then converted into data, and dispersed throughout a massive electrical shock wave. The resulting energy rewrote all Reapers, causing us to accept your way of thinking." it said, pausing for a brief moment's of time. "You are our consciousness."

_Consciousness, _she thought, finding the word strange.

"Does that mean that I control you from now on?" Shepard questioned further, finding the whole thing hard to digest. "Like, as in, each and every one of you?"

"Yes," it said. "Your word is law amongst us. We are yours to control."

"So you're telling me that the catalyst was right?" Shepard asked Harbinger, the sound of disbelief was clearly evident within her tone. "You mean I can actually control you? That I now reside within all Reapers? How the hell does that even work?" she shouts, but knows that it comes out as nothing more but an endless stream of thoughts. She desperately wished that she could shout, but her voice has no inflection-no tone, no sound, no nothing.

"We have already explained this to you," it says, the Reaper's voice devoid of all emotion. No sympathy, no remorse, nothing remotely human. Just a monotonous voice that unlike hers, actually produced sound. "However, we may have information that may prove to be of some use."

"Okay, let's hear it."

"When you made your choice, Shepard. You should have became the new catalyst, however, the citadel was deemed as inadequate placement."

"And?" Shepard prodded, hoping that the Reaper would have more information than that. Information that actually made any sense. So far she was having trouble understanding all of this.

"We were forced to find other options." it says, it voice emotionless.

Its answer was just as simple as it was vague.

"...and there weren't any options that didn't involve me becoming a Reaper?"

"No. You are us and-"

"You are me...Yeah. I get it. No need to repeat yourself," Shepard interrupts, not having the patience to listen the Reaper be repetitive. It was rather strange, considering that she was known to be a rather patient individual. At least, that was what she was told. "Excuse me for not understanding, but this really makes no sense."

"We cannot offer any other explanation," it says, pausing. "We have no explanation that will make sense to those of organic nature." it finishes, making a reference towards the time she was still human.

"Well then, I suppose we can just chalk this up as "space magic," huh?"

She was met with nothing but silence.

"You're not much of a talker, are you?" the woman asks once more, but was met with only silence.

"We apologize. We were busy discussing matters amongst the other others. They wish for you to interface with Reaper Consensus."

_Was that an apology I just heard? _Shepard wonders, astonished over the fact that a Reaper just said it was sorry. _Who knew that Reapers felt sorry?_

Suddenly, without any warning, a million voices bombarded her senses. The darkness around her began to lift, revealing a thousand or so Reapers of a variety of sizes. Their massive structures surrounded her on all sides, as their intricate network of cybernetics glowed dimly within the darkened world of Reaper Consensus. Another image began to form beneath her-it was blurry at first, nothing more but a mess of colours with blotches of colour scrambled about, littering the ebony canvas beneath her. Gradually, however, the image gained more clarity and detail and it soon revealed something that looked akin to the Normandy's galaxy map. The only difference being that it was much larger than what the ship's holographic display could offer.

It was then that she realized that her level of perception was inhuman.

It was difficult to explain her experience. It was almost as if she was looking at the world through multiple viewpoints. It was both confusing and, well, different. There was honestly no way Shepard could explain it in a manner that makes sense, even to her.

She notices that the voices around her had given way to the low thrumming of a reaper's song. She found that she literally could _feel _them. Their _thoughts, _their _feelings_ and _actions_ as if it were her own yet they were separate from hers. Hell, she could even sense the lingering presence of uncertainty, and all because the Reapers had broadcasted it throughout their ominous song. Their strange melody had enveloped her as it resonated throughout her entire being. She found the sensation to be a comfort. The music possessed a soothing effect, but the feeling was far too disorientating for her to fully allow herself to embrace these sensations.

_God,_ she thinks to herself, feeling a bit overwhelmed over the whole ordeal. _Is this how the Geth had to live? Being able to feel everybody's thoughts and feelings? Seriously, they're not even _talking _yet I know what each of them are saying! _Shepard inwardly exclaimed, the woman took more than a minute to process everything that she currently experienced.

The reapers waited patiently, however, which allowed the former commander more than enough time to regain her composure. Shepard tried to wrap her mind over the idea that no she wasn't dead and that she wasn't at the bar waiting in heaven. ANd that she would have no way to be together with Garrus and the rest of crew in the afterlife. She was so submerged in her own thoughts, that she almost allowed herself to forget that she was surrounded by her worst enemies.

Enemies that could destroy entire civilizations.

Shepard heaved out a heavy sigh, as she focused her attention back at the. She took note of their immobile structures. It was almost like the metallic creatures awaited orders.

_Her _orders.

"What are you guys waiting for?" Shepard asks them, only to be met with the oh-so familiar sound of silence. Sighing once again, Shepard raised a hand to rub her temples to ease the pain of an oncoming migraine...only to discover that what should've been a hand was nothing. No hand, no arm, hell she didn't even have a _body_ anymore_._

"So does anybody have any idea what happened to my crew?" her words come out clipped and abrupt, and despite her voice's limitations now, the Reapers knew that she was in a foul mood. It comes out much harsher than she originally intended, her words come out as a bout of inharmonious data that assaults the Reapers' senses. But Shepard doesn't care. Not now, not ever. "Also, could someone _please_ tell what the fuck happened to my body?" she ask, demanding an answer.

One of the smaller Reapers decided to raise one of its small tentacle-like appendages in response. Something so unrealistically uncharacteristic for such a thing. It's laughable.

The destroyer appears nervous and tentative. It didn't help with the fact that the Reaper was practically radiating giddiness, the synthetic publicly broadcasting its emotions through the odd humming it produced.

_Wait a fucking minute. These things have emotions? _she exclaims, more confused than ever.

"This platform was one of the last to retreat from Shepard-Commander's native world. We are the platform responsible for protecting the beam that led to the Citadel." it states, its voice appears to be high-pitched and squeaky in comparison to its peers. "We had witnessed the entire exchange between you and the catalyst." the Reaper paused, before it decides to continue. "We witnessed the destruction of your body."

Jesus Christ. The catalyst was right when it told her that she would lose _everything._

Shepard was absolutely livid. She was more than certain that she was bound to turn renegade any minute now.

As if it noticed its leader's disdain and anger. The reaper brushed lightly against her (don't ask her how that was even possible), the synthetic tugged lightly at her consciousness. The gesture appeared, dare she say, _comforting. _"We apologize that this information has caused you unnecessary distress."

"No. No, it's okay…?"

"This unit goes by the name of Unit: 3124. This unit is also one of the many Reapers that your kind calls Destroyers."

"Look, um, Unit: 3124. It's no problem, really." Shepard said, sighing. "Also, we really need to give you a name that's less...well. We just need to give you a new name." the soldier stats, unsure on what to make of the situation or whether or not she should voice the next question out loud. "Err...do reapers have genders? Like, do they consider themselves male or female?"

Yet again, she was met only with silence.

"…thought so. You guys are _so_ talkative."

"We have no sex. We have no need to reproduce like organics. We are of synthetic origin." They said in unison, their voices sounding like an odd symphony of harmonics that made her non-existent ears ring. "We do not refer to one another as 'he' or 'she,' this is an organic sentiment that we do not share. We may, however, adapt to use such pronouns if it will be to your liking."

"To be frank, I really don't care what your kind does. So long as you're off of every goddamn world." She says, her tone blunt. "No offence. But can't you guys be any more synthetic? Even Avina shows more emotion than you."

"By synthetic, do you wish for us to be more 'organic?'" Harbinger added, the large reaper deciding to butt into the conversation she had between the Destroyer.

"I guess." she shrugs, "I'm just confused over how much emotion I'm feeling right now."

It was contradicting statement, she knows. It doesn't help that she just said that they were less emotionless than Avina, but dammit, she doesn't care.

_Not too mention curious over what the fuck is going on with that Destroyer's voice. It sounds almost feminine._

"We have no need for such petty sentimental constructs. They are of your people's creation, not ours. We do not _feel_ emotions. It is an organic concept. One that we do not share with you." It replies, but its answer sounded strangely hesitant.

"Then explain the hesitance, Harbinger?"

"We do not know what you speak of, Shepard."

"Just answer the damn question."

It didn't say anything for a long moment, busy coming up with words that would satisfy its new leader. "...we did not feel before you joined us. We felt nothing. We merely did what our programming told us to do. We harvested species because it was what the cycle wanted - what the Catalyst wanted. We merely did what we must." the reaper answered, sounding conflicted by what it told her.

"You mean to tell me you did this because you had a fucking instruction manual telling you what to do? Because the Catalyst told you so?" she screams, her words coming out as a barrage of data that causes the Reapers to reel back. It was like talking to children. Mind you, these children had lasers and were weapons of mass destruction. "I don't understand! The reapers destroyed countless of races because they were told to? You guys didn't choose for yourselves?"

"Why ask questions that you, yourself, already know?" one of them says, sounding strangely defensive.

"Shut up, Squid-legs, nobody asked you!"

Instead of remaining silent and doing nothing like Shepard expected, the Reapers did something she never thought possible. They cowered. They were legitimately afraid of her. This was something that she thought was never possible. They felt fear - and all because of her - because she was angry at them.

Well, good. They should after all the crap they did to the galaxy.

"Look, you know...I know this is confusing for all of us, but can you just tell me what happened to the Normandy and my crew?" she questions, giving up, far too tired. She didn't have the patience to deal with beings that were as old as time itself, but had no idea what emotions felt like. She was enraged but knowing that they were just as confused as her made her slightly - _slightly_, more compassionate towards them. God. She hoped she wasn't getting all motherly with a race that murdered hundreds of thousands of civilizations. Sure. Sure, the commander was (and still is) a patient individual and had the capacity to deal with intergalactic scum like the Illusive Man, but she was already near the end of her emotional reserves, however, now wasn't the time to take out her anger and frustration on the Reapers. Not when she didn't know shit on what happened to her people.

This was gonna be one hell of an eternity.

She just wished she had more company than these jackasses.


End file.
